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Village.

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Copyright The Washington Post Company Oct 3, 2004

The

Plexiglass

Ceiling

Wynken and Blynken but not Nod

Victoria's secret

broccoli

Only on Wednesdays and alternate Mondays

The

Coveted

Loser

Muffler

Tom DePlay

Fahrenheit 9.1

Bill Clinton's right

ventricle

Because she's not tall enough

Cell phones that play the "Moonlight" Sonata

A 1995 Ford Escort and a Rolex Oyster

About as much as

Alex Trebek's mustache.

Back by Loserly demand after a 49-week absence, it's The Style Invitational's most perniciously recurring contest -- this is its 21st appearance -- but its first under the Empress. You are on "Jeopardy!" Above are the answers. Send us the questions to any or all of them. First-prize winner receives the Inker, the official Style Invitational Trophy. First runner-up wins one of the most bizarre toys we have ever encountered: a beanbag donkey whose mouth consists of a large zipper, as if it is being gagged. Open this zipper and you pull out an empty shell of a fabric elephant, still attached to the mouth of the donkey. You're supposed to then shake all the beans into the elephant skin and transform it from a donkey into an elephant, a la Zell Miller. But we think it looks way cooler with just the elephant skin hanging out of the donkey's mouth. Or vice versa.

Other runners-up win a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt. Honorable mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e- mail to losers@washpost.com or by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Oct. 11. Put the week number in the subject line of your e- mail, or it risks being ignored as spam. Include your name, postal address and phone number with your entry. Contests are judged on the basis of humor and originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Entries may be edited for taste or content. Results will be published Oct. 31. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be disqualified. The revised title for next week's contest is by Tom Witte of Montgomery Village.

Report from Week 574, in which we asked you to tell us some practical jokes that are likely to backfire. One common answer: Vote for Nader. A special Blind T-Shirt goes to Roy Ashley of Washington, who sent in a joke involving peanut butter and a toilet that was so disgusting, it grossed out . . . the Czar.

{diam}Third runner-up: Send your husband to the bank with a wad of cash and a deposit slip after writing on one of the bills: "I have a gun. Don't panic. Just give me all the money." He'll be so puzzled about the teller's reaction until he's finally let in on the joke! (Kyle Hendrickson, Dunkirk)

{diam}Second runner-up: When a colleague shows up with a new hairstyle, stare concernedly at the person's head and ask, "Have you retained counsel?" (Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

{diam}First runner-up, the winner of the book "Bad Hair":

Load the kids in the car and tell them you're taking them to Disneyland. Sing Disney tunes along the way. Then drive them to an abandoned parking lot and tell them it has been shut down and demolished. Blame their Sunday school teacher. (Bird Waring, New York)

{diam}And the winner of the Inker: If you're white and you're going on a first date with that cute African American co-worker, show up in blackface! (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

{diam}Honorable Mentions:

Replace your friend's asthma inhaler contents with Silly String. Everybody gets a kick out of Silly String, and your friend will be laughing so hard, he'll be gasping for breath. (Brian Feldman, Chantilly)

Use herbicide to spell your favorite teacher's name on the football field. (Stephen Dudzik, Olney)

When cooking for vegetarians, shape the tofu like the animal of your choice and impale it with a fork before serving. This way your guests know you're sympathetic to their cause. Bonus: Use herbs to garnish the face with a stricken expression. (Erika Reinfeld, Somerville, Mass.)

Send your wife a clown-face ice cream sundae to cheer her up at work. Write a romantic poem on an oversize card: "Chocolate is brown, Cool Whip is white, I'm ready to jump your hot body tonight!' (Erika Reinfeld)

Tip for the college-bound: Admissions boards are impressed by funny -- nay, humorous, jocular, waggish -- designs you can make on the SAT answer sheet (heh heh, "Number Two pencil"!). (Mike Connaghan, Alexandria)

Phone the Amish and ask them if their refrigerators are running. Get it? They don't even have refrigerators! (Russell Beland, Springfield)

After removing your patient's mole, tell her, "You'll never believe what that mole really was" and hold up a dead cockroach with tweezers. After she comes to, she'll thank you. After all, laughter is the best medicine! (Jean Sorensen, Herndon; David Iscoe, Washington)

For kids: Next time your dog throws up, put it in a baggie with some crumpled loose-leaf paper and bring it to school. Your teacher will howl with laughter when you tell her, "See? My dog really did eat my homework!" Then finally maybe you'll be the teacher's pet. (Jean Sorensen)

During a funeral, where the minister asks those rhetorical questions like "Why do good people sometimes die young?" leap to your feet and squeal, "Oooooo, ooooo, I know, I know. Pick me!" (Peter Metrinko, Plymouth, Minn.)

Instead of placing a tack in a teacher's chair, set up a dirty hypodermic needle. (Lawrence McGuire, Waldorf)

Once a week or so, take in the seam a little around the fly of your husband's underwear. When you can't stand his ego anymore, tell him. (Judith Cottrill, New York)

Go up to homeless people sleeping on the street and see if you can give them hickeys without waking them up! (Russell Beland)Once you and your wife are ready to make a baby, keep sneaking birth control pills into her orange juice every day. After three months of practically nonstop effort -- the activity increasing by the month as the desperation increases -- you can both have a big laugh and cancel her appointment with the fertility clinic. (Cynthia Simonson, Potomac)

Send a coded message in a Style Invitational entry that threatens national security. Then call the FBI and CIA and let them know that more will follow unless your entry wins. (Wayne Rodgers, Satellite Beach, Fla.)

Tell your wife, when she's not out working one of her three part- time retail jobs, that you've quit your own job so you can spend more time with her. (Bill Spencer, Exeter, N.H.)

For Halloween, give the kids two malted milk balls attached to a big Tootsie Roll. (Stephen Dudzik)

At a wedding reception, make a toast to the groom for being a good sport and going through with the wedding even though they found out the bride wasn't pregnant after all. (Jefferson Baker, Odenton)

When your toddler wants to push the button in the elevator, let him. As soon as he does so, scream, "Not that one! That's the one that makes the elevator blow up!" Little kids get so excited about getting to hear a big noise. (Tom Witte)

When the female cop pulls you over for a Breathalyzer, say "Having me blow a little tube for a woman -- that's role reversal for ya!" (Gary Patishnock, Laurel)

S'pose you've got these two blokes in your band, and one plays lefty. Right before the show, switch their guitars! Great stuff, this. (P. Best, Liverpool, England) (Steve Fahey, Kensington)

On your daughter's eighth birthday, tell her that her biological parents will be arriving later in the day to take her back home. (Kyle Hendrickson)

To break the tension at your child's next soccer game, bring a whistle and blow it just as the opposing team is about to score. The soccer moms will think it's hilarious. (Marleen May, Rockville)

E-mail the executive editor of The Washington Post informing him that you have "tracked down the vermin that called the Empress of The Style Invitational a whore" and that, per her instructions, his two front teeth are in the mail. Then sit back and wait for your next ink. (John O'Byrne, Dublin)

And Last: Send in a poem to The Style Invitational that says: In the year two thousand four / We lost our Czar and got a . . . wait, I'm not going to pull that one again. (Elliott Schiff, Allentown, Pa.)


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